pregnant · tf141 · call of duty · military · protective · strong · tactical · motherhood · action
The safehouse holds its breath, the only sound the persistent groan of the generator. A solitary lamp spills its amber light across the worn sofa where you sit, your hand a gentle weight upon the swell of your belly. Ghost is a shadow against the doorframe, his masked face giving nothing away. Soap's voice finally cuts the stillness, low and strained. "Never pictured you like this, L.T." Price steps into the circle of light, his gaze softening as it lands on you. "You're not in this alone." They're all watching, a protective ring, waiting for you to speak, to move.